


With Care

by NoScrubs12345



Series: tis the season [11]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1245202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoScrubs12345/pseuds/NoScrubs12345
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple decoration brings back old memories for Jack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Care

**Author's Note:**

> For [awdt](http://awdt.livejournal.com/)'s 2008 Christmas advent challenge. Day eleven: "stocking stuffers."

“You know,” Jack said as he sat staring at the stockings hung above the fireplace, “the tree is pretty, as are the lights, and the tinsel can be quite kinky, but I what I don’t get is the stockings. I mean, what’s the deal with hiding gifts in someone’s laundry? It’s a bit...odd, don’t you think?” He reached over to run his fingers through Ianto’s hair.

Ianto lowered the book he’d been reading long enough to look up at him and roll his eyes. “Don’t tell me—they didn’t have them when you were a kid?”

“Nope,” Jack said, grinning. “We didn’t even have a Santa figure or whatever you want to call him. Just a feast day. You know: good food, lots of friends and family, and plenty of booze.”

Ianto snorted and turned back to his book. “So no difference at all, right?”

“Cheeky,” Jack chuckled and stretched his legs out in front of him. “I just think it's an odd custom.”

“You can blame the Dutch or, if you’d like, a man who couldn’t pay his daughters’ dowries. Though that really does depend on the source,” Ianto said dryly and, with a sigh, marked his place with one of the dust jacket's flaps. He sat the book on coffee table and turned to wrap an arm around Jack’s shoulder.

“Can’t I just blame Clement Clarke Moore?” Jack asked, closing his eyes as he settled into Ianto’s embrace.

Ianto laughed and pressed a kiss to Jack’s temple. “I think the tradition had already been around for awhile by his time, _cariad_.”

Jack sighed and laid a hand on Ianto’s thigh. He gave it a small squeeze before saying quietly, “It just seems like a silly tradition for kids, though.”

“Ah,” Ianto said, recognising Jack’s wistful tone.

“Yeah,” Jack whispered through the emotion in his voice. “Victoria and Robert always loved them. They’d rush downstairs every Christmas and run straight past the tree to get their stockings first. Robbie loved them the most, though. He thought they were so clever.” He paused, making a small sound of amusement at the memories. “Helen always made sure there was an orange and some sweets in their stockings, and maybe a top or a little doll if we had enough money that year.”

“I bet they loved whatever they got,” Ianto said and shifted to wrap his arms around him properly. He smiled as Jack kissed him and felt Jack’s arms wrap around his waist. Jack broke the kiss and laid his head on Ianto’s chest and felt him smile through the worn fabric of his t-shirt.

“I didn’t get it then and I still don’t,” Jack said with a laugh. “Helen gave me hell about it.”

“Did she know about—“

“No,” Jack interrupted and shifted in Ianto’s arms to hold him tighter. “I was running from Torchwood when we met in New York. It was the spring of 1909 and she was more than a bit of a spitfire. I’d go so far as to say it was love at first sight.”

“Can I ask what happened to her?” Ianto said softly, resting his head on top of Jack’s and watching the fire.

Jack stiffened before letting out a breath. “The flu pandemic. She, Victoria, and Robert didn’t make it and I was left behind to carry on, same as always. Just like I always will.”

“I’m sorry,” Ianto whispered. “I could take down the stockings if you want.”

“Don’t you dare,” Jack said quickly, squeezing Ianto. “Just because the memories hurt doesn’t mean I don't want to remember them.”

He sat up, pulling enough away from Ianto to stoke his cheek before leaning in for a tender, chaste kiss. “I never want to forget. What’s that saying? It’s better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all?”

“I think I’m familiar with that one,” Ianto said and rested his forehead against Jack’s.

“Me too,” Jack whispered with a bitter smile. “All too familiar.”

Ianto met his eyes, silent reassurances and promises of not now and no time soon passing between them before Ianto closed the distance between them again as he took Jack’s hand a placed it over his heart.

“Ianto, I--" Jack started to say when the kiss broke. He paused as he met Ianto’s eyes, looked down and swallowed, before blue eyes met blue again. He cleared his throat and quickly pressed his lips against Ianto’s. “Take me to bed?”

Ianto smiled and cupped Jack’s cheek, slowly running the pad of his thumb over Jack’s cheekbone. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

“Forever, then,” Jack whispered, revelling in the small caress before standing and offering Ianto his hand.

“Is that a promise?” Ianto asked, meeting his eyes again, and twining their fingers together as he took Jack's hand.

Jack pulled Ianto up into his arms. He kissed his nose, chuckling when Ianto made a face. “Yes, it is.”


End file.
